Lumenyárë Minë

Lumenyárë Minë

Shit, Qaida thought, her dagger barely blocking the blade that came at her through the darkness. Pushing against the weapon, she thrust it out of her way as she tried to make room for her other dagger. He anticipated her movement. Shifting his weight, he landed a hard kick into her side. She hit the wall, sliding to the floor. Darkness enveloped her as she rose, crouching into the shadows of the bedroom that she’d infiltrated.

Her assignment, kill the leader of an opposing thieves guild. His home was in the prosperous part of the city, a difficult area to sneak into without being noticed. However, she had a special set of skills that her employer made use of – often. 

Sliding along the wall, each footstep silently brought her around to where she wanted to be. Launching herself out of the darkness her weapons were raised in preparation for a killing blow only to cut through thin air. Startled, the rogue stumbled slightly from her forward momentum, having hit nothing.

Heart pounding, Qaida whirled around just in time to catch the thief’s knife across her cheekbone, spinning her back the other way. Turning her dagger around, a sharp thrust behind her rewarded her with a startled gasp from her target. Strong hands wrapped around her wrist. The weapon was pulled free and she was twisted around to face her target. He slammed his knee into her stomach. She coughed as she lost the air in her lungs.

The thief threw her away from him. The rogue rolled across the floor. Slowly, she turned herself onto her stomach and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. Her eyes caught sight of the man stalking towards her. She waited patiently for him, feigning being injured more than she was.

The moment he was close enough, she prepared herself. His leg came forward in a sharp kick. The rogue took the hit, but wrapped around his foot as it connected with her ribcage. Another cough wracked her, but she twisted her body anyway. Pulling him off balance, he fell to the floor with a thud.

Twisting around, she brought her dagger up and plunged the weapon into his throat. He jerked underneath her, eyes wide with shock. His fingers pulled at her arm and side as he tried to hold onto her as if it would keep him alive. She lay still on top of him, waiting for him to draw his final breath. After a moment, the thief finally stopped moving.

She took a moment to catch her breath. Resting her forehead against the dead man’s chest, she took in deep gulps of air. Pulling her dagger free, she wiped the blade on his tunic. Slowly, the rogue sat up on his chest. Her eyes narrowed at him.

“Now… how the hell did you know I was coming…” she mused.

The rogue stood. She surveyed the room quickly. A few papers were piled on the desk across from her along with a single cup of ink and quill. Stepping over the man’s corpse, she made her way to it, fingers picking up the pages and using the moonlight to see their contents.

The first one was a list of shipments. The second was an updated account of the thieves’ guild members. Pulling the desk draws opened, she continued looking through the guild leader’s possessions. Qaida moved to the last drawer which refused to open. The dark haired woman knelt down next to the locked drawer.

From her belt, she removed a small ring of lock picks. The lock hardly proved to be a challenge. With a soft click, she was able to pull the drawer opened. Replacing her picks, she ruffled through the papers inside, eyes scanning for specific words. Lifting the paper up to the moonlight; she read the note that had caught her attention.

            Thedas,

            We have ourselves a deal. Expect company tonight.

Faine

The rogue’s eyes narrowed, what were you planning, Faine? She turned her head to eye Thedas’ body lying a few feet from her. Folding the paper, she put it into her tunic. Her teeth ground together as she stood up from the opened drawer. She was going to have a nice talk with her mercenary leader.

***

A folded piece of parchment slammed down in front of a burly man with dark hair. He had a scar running down his neck that disappeared underneath his clothing, and an un-kept face. His hard gaze slowly lifted to look at her.

“Care to explain?” Qaida’s soft voice had a cold hard edge to it.

“You know the rules, wench,” Faine started, his eyes lowering to look at the paper her hand rested on, “You do what I tell you, no questions asked, and no snooping around.”

“I’ll ‘snoop’ around when the target knows I’m coming.”

His calloused fingers wrapped around her slender wrist as he stood to tower over her, “Rules are rules. You work for me, I keep you safe.”

“You seem to be failing at it. What’s the deal? Kill me and collect on some grand prize?”

“That ain’t your business. You don’t need to know more than what I need you for.”

“Maybe I should find someone else to work for.”

Faine’s lips curled into a cruel smile, yellowed teeth bared at her, “You can’t leave, wench. Once you start working for me, you’re in for life.”

Her eyes shifted slowly to the rest of the mercenary members, measuring her odds. Four men who towered over her just as he did and two other women who leaned against the far wall were all that were present. His fingers tightened around her wrist.

“Just try it,” he growled.

Qaida felt her chest clench, a rush of adrenaline flooded her system. Calm slowly took over, instinct followed. Wrenching her hand free of Faine’s grip, she landed a hard blow to his jaw, knocking him backwards. The rogue knew she didn’t stand a chance against them, not with so many of the mercenary members present.

Drawing her throwing knife, she spun for the door. The blade flew handle over edge at the first man who tried to stop her. The mercenary dropped to the dirt floor with her knife buried in one eye. She sprinted across the distance, shouts of anger and surprise following her. Pure instinct told her to twist slightly, bringing her right shoulder down just enough to miss a dagger that flew past her.

Flinging herself into the door, it slammed wide open. The rogue pounded down the street of the city. The moonlight brightened the stone buildings, making them shine like pure silver. Voices in the dark marked the guild’s chase. He wasn’t going to let her go so easily.

Staying in the city was not an option. Faine’s thieves knew every street, every cutthroat alley, every passageway. There was no where she could hide, not to mention she wasn’t exactly on the best terms with the city guard, even less so with the city’s viscount. The mercenary had been the only reason she hadn’t been taken in irons the moment she stepped foot in Alexon.

Qaida needed transportation, coin, and a destination. There would be no way she could outrun the guild on foot. Faine’s home was close by. She was sure he wouldn’t be expecting her to break into his residence. He had the guild’s coin and horses. She used the shadows to her advantage, wreathing the darkness around her to keep hidden.

The rogue could hear the voices of the mercenaries as they searched for her. She could tell by their tone that they were enraged that she’d evaded them so easily. A smile pulled at her lips, too easy. Of course, what did you expect, Faine? You picked me for one reason. Rogues are rare, and good at many things.

She quickly made her way to the back of a dirty looking house. Pulling her lock picks out, she set to work on unlocking the door. It didn’t take long. The door opened smoothly allowing her entrance into Faine’s home. She moved quickly, the gold was all she wanted.

The rogue went straight into the main room of the house. It was hard to see as there were no windows for the moonlight to shine through. The house smelt musty, most likely from the lack of windows. A large chest sitting in the corner of the room caught her eye. Dropping down to one knee next to it, the lock picks slid into the keyhole easily.

She worked the picks slowly, gently easing each one into its proper place. Faine was no fool when it came to locks. It was stubborn, but she was patient. A few minutes later and the picks rewarded her with the familiar click of the lock coming free.

Tossing the lid back to reveal all the coin that he had ever collected, her eyebrow rose as she gazed at the nearly full chest. I see you’ve been keeping a tight rein around those who work for you, she thought. The rogue reached into the chest and filled her coin purse with as much gold as she could carry.

She left quickly, going to the stables behind the house. Silently she pushed the double doors opened; inside she heard the soft snorts of the steeds, the heavy smell of the animals filling her nose. As her fingers undid the latch that held the first horse inside, she felt a hard hand on her shoulder, pulling her backwards.

Fingers drew the daggers on her lower back as she whirled around. Her weapons slashed at darkness, a shadowy figure was her target. Steel scrapped across steel, the rogue pushed hard against the opposing force.

“Forget about me?” A feminine voice said softly, mockingly.

“Thyra, I should have known.”

“Faine knew if you were to come back from tonight’s mission this would happen. I’ve been waiting for you. Always wanted to put my blade in your throat.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not planning on dying just yet,” Qaida shot back. She pulled away, dropping down to avoid Thyra’s slashing weapons and thrust her blades towards the other woman’s thigh. Her target danced out of range. The rogue followed, twisting around in a full circle, her daggers extended. She felt one of the blades tear through cloth and flesh. Thyra hissed in response.

The rogue sent a deadly upper cut towards Thyra who blocked the attack, throwing her knee into the rogue’s side. She stumbled, Thyra followed right after. Sharp steel sunk deep into Qaida’s shoulder and right hip. She clenched her teeth, taking the wounds silently. Moving her arm was painful, but she slammed them into Thyra’s arms that held the daggers in Qaida.

Her target lost her grip on her weapons. She took advantage of the woman’s loss. Qaida threw her knee into Thyra knocking her back. The rogue struck out with her daggers, swift and hard. Both weapons cut across Thyra’s throat. The woman dropped to the floor, clutching her neck. Panting, she replaced her daggers before taking hold of the one in her shoulder. With a sharp pull, the weapon slid free from her flesh. She did the same for the one in her hip. The rogue turned to the horse, the beast had a blanket over it. She cut a long piece of cloth from it and began wrapping her wounds as best she could. There wasn’t time to do more.

Once mounted, she kicked the horse into a sprint, bolting from the stables and into the streets of Alexon. She rode low against the horse, keeping a tight hold of the reigns as she guided the horse through the streets. The gates of Alexon came into view as she turned a corner. Soon the rogue was free from the city. A cold night embraced her.